


The Stranger and The Astronaut

by 3fiftyone



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 76
Genre: Drabble, F/F, F/M, Freeform, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:28:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24747619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3fiftyone/pseuds/3fiftyone
Summary: Sometimes I lie awake and wonder if this is all there is for me now. Killing creatures. Picking through rubble and garbage. Hiking all day and night. Occasionally running across a former Vault mate. I question what the point of surviving is - if there is nothing to left live for.
Relationships: The Resident/Commander Sofia Daguerre, Vault Dweller/Commander Sofia Daguerre
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	The Stranger and The Astronaut

I can barely recall what life was like in the Vault. It fades in and out of memory like a dream from long ago.

I was born and raised in Vault 76. My parents died years ago. Childhood friends either didn’t survive long after Reclamation Day or are now only acquaintances that I encounter on a supply run. I try to forget about all of that because it’s of no use to me now. Nothing about Vault life has prepared me for what I’ve faced in Appalachia. I’m left with a sad, longing feeling when my mind wanders to it regardless.

\-----

Life is peaceful here. Well, for the most part. Every morning I rise from my cot in the little shanty house I’ve built. I cook up whatever I was able to slay the night before and scan the crackling frequencies on my PipBoy for some tunes long forgotten. I venture out every day looking for scrap or valuable intel of the world left behind. The friendly bots I find ask for help sometimes and can be annoying but for the most part, they’re a welcome distraction. I fight Scorched, Super Mutants and beasts until my energy is spent. Then I head back to my wood pile of a home and sleep, dreaming of the lost past or whatever the future could hold. Then I repeat it all the next day. And the next day. And the next...

Sometimes I lie awake and wonder if this is all there is for me now. Killing creatures. Picking through rubble and garbage. Hiking all day and night. Occasionally running across a former Vault mate. I question what the point of surviving is - if there is nothing to left live for.

Recently I’ve started seeing the caravans in the distance. They first appeared in the fringes of the horizon a few weeks ago, coming closer every day. Initially, I thought the rads were finally getting to me and I was hallucinating. But now I know - there are hoards of travelers coming through the Blue Ridge Mountains heading this way.

Don’t get me wrong - I’m happy to know others have survived the bombs - but I’m also resentful. My fellow Vault dwellers and I have made this pocket of forest our kingdom. Who are these outsiders to come and invade it?

I know that I’m lonely. Sure, the other Vault Dwellers hanging around are fine for the most part but the world is unforgiving now. We are all out here just trying to survive - there’s only a few that I’ve encountered that I can trust but even then I keep my distance. We’ll trade or visit each other’s camps but there’s always a risk they’ll kill me and loot what I have. I wonder how the newcomers will fit in to this way of life once they get here... 

\-----

It was a day was like any other. While cooking up some mirelurk meat by the campfire, I heard the unmistakeable sound of something soaring to Earth. I looked up to the skies and saw it - some sort of space craft and it was coming down fast. Falling, not flying which meant no pilot. It was too big to just be a satellite.

I finished my food and prepared to head to the crash site. Surely there would be some useful scrap on board. 

I began hiking and turned the dial on my PipBoy. Surprisingly, a distress call crackled through the static. This must be an old recording, I thought, and turned the dial back to Appalachia Radio. It was too morbid listening to someone’s final words. Even though I’ve listened to many of these kinds of recordings on my missions around Appalachia, it didn’t get any easier to hear. The good news was that the craft was still transmitting so the equipment on board wasn’t severely damaged on impact. That meant I needed to get to the crash site before any other Vault Dwellers.

Super Mutants have already started picking over the wreckage. A minor inconvenience. A few rounds of ammo later and it’s all clear. 

I scoured over the craft and pocketed some parts. The small ship is completely decimated except for the control panel.  
Then I saw it - a blood trail. The distress recording wasn’t old. Someone was nearby, and they were hurt. 

I fiddled with my PipBoy to find the distress transmission again. “This is Commander Sofia Daguerre of the USSA. This is an emergency… USSA come in. Please come in. There was a malfunction upon re-entry. I repeat: we have crashed… somewhere. Crew status… unknown. Broadcasting my coordinates. Please hurry.” She sounded so afraid. “Don’t worry Commander Daguerre - I’m coming to find you,” I muttered to myself.

I followed the blood trail to a flooded-out old Free States bunker. There she was - barely conscious and clearly disoriented. She’s an astronaut that launched into space in 2070 and was put into hibernation - years before the Great War. She and her crew were abandoned, forgotten about in space as the US and the rest of the world was destroyed below.

\-----

I hold her as she shakes violently in the night. The nightmares are getting worse.  
“I’ve got you - you’re here, you’re safe.”

We’ve settled into a nice rhythm together. She tells me about her past and her favorite Unstoppables stories. I love hearing about what life was like before the bombs fell. I tell her about what I can remember of life in the Vault and what I’ve seen in Appalachia. 

It’s rough for her the first few weeks on the ground. She’s trying to be strong for my sake and keep her pain bottled up. She feels as though she’s a burden. Little does she know that she’s become my reason to stop surviving and start living.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something that came to me while playing - not enough to elaborate on but not enough to let go of. Kept switching between first and second person while jotting it down so apologies for any tense/grammar issues I may have missed.


End file.
